


The Boy is a Lie

by funhousefreak



Series: Too Good to be True [1]
Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Deception, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, btw its not character death in the normal way, just major angst, let me live, like no one actually dies, michael's here to ruin everything, time to fight god, yes the title is a portal reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 08:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16404971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funhousefreak/pseuds/funhousefreak
Summary: Satan can't believe he's done it. He got the boy and destroyed humanity. Now, all that's left is to fight God. But things don't go according to plan, and Satan quickly realizes that God's torture goes further than the time loops.





	The Boy is a Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! So this is my first time writing a Devilman fic, so I hope y'all like it! I super love this and how it turned out. I'm even considering making it into a longer fic at some point.
> 
> Enjoy!

                  There are these ethereal moments in life when a dream become tangible. You can feel it materialize in your hands. You’re done grasping for it, reaching out on the very tips of ledges to capture it. You’re done with jumping and crawling and chasing after it. No more will you fall or trip attempting to seize it. Finally, you’re there.

            Then, before you even realize you have it, it slips through your fingers.

            Every moment leading up to then had been so crystal clear, so detailed. It had been extremely overwhelming for Satan. For so long, he had had the same 20 years of memories, repeated over and over again without end. Of course, there were a few outlying memories, things he had tried in loops that hadn’t worked. But this time was different. He didn’t even understand how, really. Everything had been the same the whole loop, except that at the final battle, Akira did not fight. The other Devilmen did, but he stepped aside and stood next to Satan. That was unprecedented. Never, in thousands of loops, had he ever done that. And there was nothing that had occurred in this one to suggest a change of heart. And, yet, it happened. Akira had laid down his weapons and switched allegiances. He had taken Satan’s hand to go to Heaven and fight God. He had fought his way past the gates and up to the being himself. And, not once, had Satan suspected a goddamn thing.

            But now, as they stood in front of the imposing deity, a horrible pang of dread struck him in his chest. Something was wrong. That fight had been too easy. Why had Akira switched sides so quickly, with no persuasion needed? He was so ready to step up and fight _fucking_ God. What changed? Nothing. Literally nothing. This couldn’t be right.

            Before Satan could even blink, Akira was gone from his side. The fallen angel twisted his head around, confused. When he looked back at God, it all clicked.

            Akira stood next to him, as if it were the most natural place for him to be. God smiled, or, rather, Satan felt an aura of satisfaction radiate from the light that composed God’s current state.

            “Well done, Michael,” the deity bellowed, pleased. The light stretched out a bit to rest near Akira’s shoulder. Akira smiled—no, _glowed_ —at the praise.

            “Akira?” Satan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He could almost see the strings unravelling before his eyes. Each knot was quickly and neatly being pulled loose, leaving the loose threads of truth in front of him. He wanted to be more confused by this, to not understand what was happening. But there was no use feigning ignorance or helplessly holding onto false hope. The illusion had already disintegrated.

            The boy in front of him dropped the façade. The body of Akira fell silently to the ground before disappearing. Left in its place was the bright golden light of heaven, outlining the muscular build of archangel Michael. Satan dug his beautifully manicured nails into his thighs and gritted his teeth. This was enough of a blow as it was, but Michael was the one behind it all? _Fucking hell._

            “Did you really think you could win?” God chided. Even without a face, Satan could imagine a huge smirk on a human version of him. Michael crossed his arms over his chest, his thick red armor clanking loudly as his arms met his chest plate.

            “Well?” God asked when Satan had not responded after several seconds. Michael let a smirk stretch his face to mirror the figurative one God wore.

            “Just fucking reset the loop,” Satan hissed, refusing to meet either’s gaze.

            “Excuse me?”

            “That’s what you always do. So, just do it.”

            “Don’t want your defeat rubbed in your face?” Michael taunted, his grin smugger than Satan had ever seen.

            “Shut your fucking mouth, you piece of shit!” Satan’s head snapped upwards as he mustered his harshest glare through the despair weighing him down.

            “Aw, don’t yell at me, Ryo,” Michael cooed in faux sadness. Satan visibly cringed at the use of his human counterpart’s name.

            “Michael.” God’s tone was firm, a warning. Michael was even getting on _his_ nerves.

            Satan turned his head back to God. “You done?” he asked with a defeated sigh. His shoulders stooped as his anger faded back into misery.

            “Aren’t you curious about this?” God asked, clearly reigning in the full extent of his joy.

            “No. Honestly, I couldn’t care less.”

            “You can’t lie to me, Satan. I know the truth.”

            “Then why did you even ask?”

            “I wanted to give you a chance to be honest, for once.” The last two words were spoken lowly, almost in a growl.

            “Since when have you ever cared about giving _me_ a chance?”

            “You had every chance at a good life!” Several light rays shot up from the top of God’s form. “I gave you _everything_ and you threw it all away!”

            “You’re supposed to be kind, merciful, forgiving!” Satan yelled, his anger returning. “Yet, you put me through torture for all eternity! For standing up to you _once_! And now you pull this _shit_!”

            “Stop screaming,” Michael interrupted nonchalantly. Satan turned to him, balling his hands into fists to prevent himself from attacking the angel. Michael studied his sparkly golden fingernails intently. If Satan didn’t know better, he’d think Michael was looking for a chip or some imperfection. But, of course, Archangel nails are always perfect. “You’re the one who fell for it.”

            “And what about you? Are you a new addition? Or have you been in on this the whole fucking time?”

            Michael flashed him a smirk, then spun on his heel and sauntered towards the temple doors. His hips swayed with each step, a motion that was obviously intentional. It made Satan want to puke.

            “Satan, you’re smart. Everyone knows that, even the humans do.”

            Satan gritted his teeth, knowing that this flattery was only going to end in the harshest of criticisms. He lurched forward in an attempt at tackling the angel, but his legs were grabbed by an unseen force. He sent a death glare towards God, but the deity said nothing.

“Then why on earth would you think Father would give you someone to love?” Michael glanced over his shoulder and met the fallen angel’s gaze. Cocky green eyes met violent blue for several seconds before Michael continued. “Or, better yet, how did you ever imagine he’d create someone who’d love _you_?”

            Satan stared at Michael. The lattter turned around fully without ever breaking his gaze. His smirk had somehow managed to grow wider and more wicked. Satan was surprised by how dark the angel looked. He’d known for too long how cruel God could be, but the Archangels had never stooped that low—especially Michael, as their leader. He’d never seen the other angel look so triumphant, so pleased to watch someone suffer. Things in Heaven had changed more than he could have ever imagined.

            His fellow angel’s words shot through his thoughts like a bullet. He felt like he’d been hit by a freight train as the words barreled back into his brain faster than he could think. He wanted to scream, to cry out, to weep. For thousands of years, his existence had been a lie. He’d always known that, since the end of the first loop. But the one thing he thought had been real the whole time was just another falsehood. The boy he’d loved wasn’t real. He’d never truly existed. Any feelings this person had supposedly had for him were fiction, too. God’s plans to torture him extended further than he’d ever imagined. He had fabricated every bit of it, gotten Archangels in on it, even brought him to his doorstep to watch him fall apart.

            Satan, face still blank, pulled on his back leg. He managed to raise it a couple inches off the ground before it was pulled roughly back into place. The invisible force was still holding him back. He tried again, putting a bit more effort into it this time. He made it a few inches higher this time, but then the same thing occurred. Satan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. This time, he yanked his foot up abruptly, and, before the force could pull him back, he swung his leg forward and planted his foot in front of his other one. He’d done it—he’d taken a step. He’d pushed through God’s power and moved forward. Face remaining empty, he did the same motion with his other leg. God realized what was happening and applied more force, desperate to regain more control. Satan kept pushing forward, regardless of how slow his progress was becoming. It was like he was trudging through a deep bank of snow. He could feel himself growing tired, but he didn’t care. He could rest after defeating this prick.

            Michael didn’t even shift his stance as he watched Satan approach him. He waited arrogantly and patiently. Satan knew he was trying to rile him up more, but he refused to fall victim to it. He allowed his face to show determination, his eyes narrowing and mouth letting out strained groans as God continually added more weight to his feet. He heard a snicker from the angel, but he said nothing. He’d have his revenge soon enough.

            By the time he’d reached the small stairs, God had given up on holding him down. Satan wanted to give a witty quip about beating him, but he held his tongue. This meant God was realizing his futility and the full breadth of Satan’s power. It was dawning on him that he was not as strong as he thought he was. Perhaps it was finally sinking in that there was a chance, even if slim, that he could be defeated in the upcoming battle.

            Satan climbed the first three stairs, stopping on the one just below Michael. The Archangel moved his hands from his chest to his hips and cocked an eyebrow expectantly at Satan. The fallen angel said nothing, just continued to stare at Michael’s piercing green eyes. After a moment, he finally figured out what he wanted to say.

            “I thought you were better than this.”

            Michael’s smirk faltered. Internally, Satan rejoiced. That was exactly the reaction he’d wanted.

            “I’m sorry,” Michael chuckled, his arrogant smirk returning. “What?”

            “I thought you were better than this.”

            “Better than what, exactly?”

            “Better than pretending to be a human for thousands of years just to make my life miserable.”

            Michael’s smirk fell permanently, and a firm frown replaced it. “I did so because that’s what God wanted.”

            “And since when do you endorse torturing people?”

            “Look, you came here to fight, so let’s just get on with it.”

            “Who says I came to do that?”

            “ _You_ did! To me, an hour ago!” Michael threw his hands into the air, his frustration starting to boil over.

            “I came to fight God. Not you.”

            “Stop trying to distract me.”

            “I just want to know why you’ve stooped this low.”

            **“ENOUGH!”**

The bickering angels turned around towards the shout. God grabbed Satan by the neck and jerked him towards him. The fallen angel struggled against the grip, thrashing his arms and legs and wings to break the hold. But God wasn’t going to let himself be defeated so easily once again. His grip only tightened as Satan continued to flail about.

            “I’m done with you,” God snapped. “This was fun, but you’re nothing but trouble.”

            Satan opened his mouth to ask a question, but instead he choked and let out a loud series of coughs.

            “I’m not going to kill you,” he clarified, as if he’d read Satan’s mind. “I’m giving you a fate worse than death.”

            Michael’s eyes widened. Even he was taken aback by God’s words. He’d always thought God had made the loops to teach the fallen angel a lesson. The worst he’d imagined was that maybe he wanted to have a little fun watching his nemesis suffer. But a fate worse than death? That seemed….

            God silently shoved a stream of light into Satan’s torso. Satan’s eyes shot open. He opened his mouth to scream, but all he could manage were more coughing fits. The light wiggled around inside him, as if it were looking for something. Satan squirmed against the intrusion, bothered by more than just the pain. After several seconds, it stopped and painfully grabbed ahold of something. Satan couldn’t tell what it was, but he did know that God was trying to remove it. He screamed silently as tears rolled down his cheeks, the pain growing unbearable. Michael watched on in horror, his mouth agape and eyes wide. He wanted to move forward, to intervene in whatever was happening. But his feet were glued into place. His whole body was frozen.

            The process only took seconds, but it felt like hours to the two angels. God yanked his prize out of Satan’s body, drawing a final strangled scream out of his prisoner. He threw the shaking body onto the ground, like it was a dirty dishrag that he couldn’t stand to hold for another second. Satan was back in his human form, which made him look ever smaller and afraid. Orange sparks appeared in the same ray of light that held whatever God had stolen. Before Michael could see what it was, it burned up in a fast, small blaze. God shook the ashes off himself before turning back to Satan. Tears were still silently streaming down his face, and his eyes were fixed in a state of terror. His whole body continued to shake like a leaf. His breaths were rattly and strained, but at least he was breathing.

            “Can you feel the difference?” God asked ominously. Satan said nothing. Michael felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “Well?”

            “What…what did you do to him?” Michael’s voice sounded, for the first time in his life, scared.

            “Oh Michael,” God hummed. “I wish you hadn’t seen that. You’re too pure for this. But, if you must know, I just took his soul.”

            Michael’s eyes somehow managed to widened even more with this new-found horror. The tears that had been building fell like rain to the ground.

            “He is no longer Satan. He’s not even an angel anymore.” God floated several inches closer to Satan—well, former Satan. “The greatest happiness he ever felt was as a human, so I thought he might like to continue that existence.”

            Michael’s frightened gaze switched to the former angel. He hadn’t moved beyond his frame’s shakes.

            “Wh-who is he now?”

            “He’s who he has been for the majority of his life. He’s Ryo Asuka.”

            God picked up the trembling new human and carried him away from the temple. Michael could only watch, his feet still glued to the stair he stood on. This couldn’t be happening. God would never do something so awful to someone, right? Stealing souls was more of Satan’s job, not God’s. God created souls—why would he rip them away?

            “Where are you taking him?” he asked quietly. Had he not been speaking in the presence of a deity, he would have assumed his words had been too soft to be heard.

            “Back to Earth, where he belongs now.”

            God held the scared figure over the edge of Heaven, an aura of happiness and content spreading. If God had a face, Michael was sure he’d be smiling.

            “It’s time to begin the final timeline. No more loops. Just you, living out a normal, human life. Knowing who you used to be and what you’ve now been reduced to.”

            Satan—no, Ryo—managed to shift his eyes up to God. He tried to open his mouth to say something—anything at this point. But before his throat remembered how to make sound, the light holding him let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love feedback so please comment and kudos if you enjoyed it! Let me know if you'd like a whole fic out of this, too!


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